


Captivation

by HaveCourageAndBeKind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonds, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Post-War, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Veela, Veela Hermione Granger, Veela Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveCourageAndBeKind/pseuds/HaveCourageAndBeKind
Summary: Her life had changed before she even realized; certainly too late to stop it. She was delighted the Malfoy's wiggled their way into her heart, but she didn't know if she could handle the other changes taking place in her life. Hermione didn't know what bothered her more; that nothing seemed to make sense, or her uncontrollable feelings over a certain handsome male.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an edited version of my work, Captivation, that use to be only on fanfiction. I really have enjoyed working on this piece, and I hope you enjoy it as well. I started this back in February, but I really wanted to make some major edits before posting on AO3 or get any new chapter up.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely Beta's: Reyloclaw and DiagonAli. You guys are amazing.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_Finally._  
  
Hermione sighed in relief. She had spent the past year helping to clean up the mess the Wizarding World was left in after the fall of Voldemort. Between spending her weekends up in Scotland repairing damages to Hogwarts and her weekdays by Minister Shacklebolt’s side editing out of date laws, Hermione barely had time left to sit down and read a good book with Crookshanks.  
  
The pair finally made some progress with getting a few new laws approved by the Wizengamot leaving Hermione feeling proud over what she accomplished over the past year. They were able to eliminate most discriminatory laws; whether they were already in place before the downfall of the Ministry or enforced during the reign of Voldemort. Hermione had spent most of her time trying to convince the Wizengamot about the importance of not taking away rights of Purebloods after the war, which is what most people demanded. Hermione wanted to try to create a World with each and fair treatment between Halfbloods, Purebloods, and Muggleborns everywhere.  
  
Although, the public had been in a tizzy about giving Death Eaters or even family of Death Eaters any rights.  
  
The public had protested against Hermione after she announced that she wanted to have fair trials for all of the Death Eaters and improve Azkaban conditions, including the eradication of the highly uncontrollable Dementors. She knew she needed to address the backlash before it became out of control and asked Kingsley to set up a press conference for her to speak at. As a member of the ‘Golden Trio,’ Hermione internally cringed at the name, she knew she was respected well enough that people would come to the event, she just hoped people would listen to her arguments.  
  
She stepped on the platform and immediately became blinded by bright flashes of cameras in her face. She could barely hear her own thoughts through the chatter of the crowd and felt herself become a bight lightheaded. She never did well with crowds before the war, and afterwords her anxiety hit levels of an all time high. Hermione took a deep breath, knowing she had to look the image of power and confidence if people were to listen. She cleared her throat several times and gave a stern look to the audience, declaring that she required complete silence.  
  
Once silence washed over the crowd, she opened up her mouth to speak when she was interrupted by _that beetle_ , Rita Skeeter.  
  
“Is it true Miss Granger that you wish to treat Death Eaters with better conditions than they deserve? Or that you want Purebloods to be treated as equals? I would think that as the prized Muggleborn you would wish to see these people thrown in jail and left to rot after all they’ve done to you?” She asked with malice in her voice. Hermione heard the crowd shout in agreement and wanted to roll her eyes. She knew that Skeeter believed in all of the Pureblood rubbish, but she knew what the public wanted and ate it up like a starving man.  
  
“I will not be answering questions at this time. If you would patiently wait until the end of my statement, I will gladly answer a few questions for those who don’t speak out of turn.” She gave raised her eyebrow at Skeeter to challenge her, and smirked as she saw a scowl form on her adversaries face. Hermione looked out into the crowd and heard a few people hush others around them.  
  
“I implore you all to listen when I say that the war is over. We have spent years in a battle against many different prejudices in our world. Voldemort,” she pauses as gasps were heard through the crowd at the forbidden name, “capitalized on the fears of those who believed that Muggleborns, like myself, were naturally inferior and did not deserve a place in our society. He especially goaded the Purebloods who were afraid of tainting their bloodlines from those who would weaken their power. He told his followers exactly what they wanted to hear, and even encouraged them to fear the Muggles and Muggleborns. He gave them the power they needed, telling them not only should they look down on these humans, but he began propagating that they all deserved death. That they shouldn’t stop until the world was no longer contaminated by the ‘ _filthy and substandard.’_  
  
“However, it did not just stop there. He wanted to even kill the Pureblood families that he considered ‘blood traitors.’ He tortured his own followers when they did not follow his command. While many certainly willingly followed him, many were left with no choice. They simply feared for their lives or their loved ones lives.  
  
“However painful it is, think back to the war. What would you have done to save your family to make sure they were safe and alive. What would have happened if a known death eater sympathizer came to the light for help. We would like to believe that we would have helped them, but most likely than not they would have been turned away. Why? Fear of betrayal. Of their loyalties truly being with Voldemort. Of important information getting back to him.  
  
“Not only would they have been turned away, they would have then been known as ‘blood traitors’ and become targets of the loyal Death Eaters. So what were they supposed to do? They did what they could to survive the war.  
  
“Think of the Malfoys. I know for a fact that they have been getting backlash over these past months over being supporters of Voldemort. Does anyone care to remember that we would not have won the war without them? If any of you actually cared to follow their trials, you would have learned that when we were captured and brought the Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy denied who we were, knowing that if our identity was given Voldemort would have been called forth. That alone bought us enough time to escape, leading to the inevitable downfall of Voldemort.  
  
“Narcissa Malfoy put her life at risk to lie to Voldemort to his face. During the Battle at Hogwarts, Harry gave himself to Voldemort to save his friends and family from future death. When he sent a killing curse to Harry, he called Narcissa to check to see if he was dead. She felt his pulse and lied to Voldemort, saying that he was indeed deceased. If she truly believed in the cause, she would have given up Harry immediately and Voldemort would have won. So I ask you, before you make judgments, try to place yourself in their shoes.  
  
“War is not always choice. I was born as a Muggleborn, making it easy to make my choice of where to stand. Those who are born in well know Dark families had the same level of choice as I did. They were raised from birth to have certain beliefs, and after years of repetition, that information sinks into subconsciousness.  
  
“We all may be Witches and Wizards, but we are all still human. We make mistakes and can realize our faults. I propose for fair trials because that is basic human decency. If they are guilty, they will be tried for what they rightfully deserve. It gives a chance to those to show where their true loyalties lie under veritaserum. And yes, I do believe we should start pay attention to the Muggles’  form of imprisonment. They are now trying to focus on rehabilitation instead of retribution. It prepares their inmates for life outside of prison, hopefully leaving them with no need to seek revenge over their incarceration. It allows them to incorporate back into society without judgment. These muggles who are released after being rehabilitated have a dramatically lower return rate to prison than inmates that are treated poorly.  
  
“It is time for us to learn forgiveness in order to prevent another war. If we continue on with the hate and prejudice on the Purebloods, If we let Death Eaters and Sympathizers barely survive in harsh conditions and give them unfair trials, does that make us any better? I know many of you want justice, and we will get justice. But justice does not need to be served with revenge. Let us rebuild the Wizarding community with support for everyone. Forgiveness is the only way there will ever be change in our world. Thank you.”  
  
She took several deep breaths as the crowd still was deadly silent. A few brave souls began a slow clap, which led to eventual applause and cheers throughout the room. Those attending her conference were giving her the approval she desperately needed to make sure her plans were put into action. Sure, there were still those who were giving her hateful eyes, especially Skeeter. Hermione noticed her looking put out that the crowd no longer favored her, and instead mostly cheering on the Muggleborn witch she loathed.

Hermione smirked inwardly, knowing that Skeeter deserved to be squashed. Hopefully it would put off her pesky ways.

  
Hermione left the platform feeling high on the support the crowd gave her after answering a few brief questions. Kingsley shook her hand vigorously and thanked her again for all of the hard work and effort she put in to improve their world. She walked back into her office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and plopped into her chair with a sigh as she kicked off her heels. She rubbed her aching feet briefly before reaching over and grabbing a picture frame on her desk.  
  
The picture made her smile, it being the only memory she had left with her parents. Most of the others she kept packed away, as it hurt to much to look at daily. This one though would always be her favorite.

It showed the three of them in the summer after fourth year in their vacation to the Mediterranean. They were all still, being a muggle photo, but it captured all of the love they had for each other. Her arms were wrapped around the necks of both of her parents and they all had the largest grins on their faces. Her mum had her face flush up against Hermione’s. Sometimes it became difficult for Hermione to look into a mirror because of how similar she looked like her mum. She felt a tear run down her face that she quickly wiped away as someone knocked on her door.  
  
“Miss Granger,” Her secretary Maria poked her head in the office door, “You have a visitor who does not have an appointment. I figured I would check with you before I let them know you were busy.” She smiled.  
  
“No its okay Maria, send them in. I’m in no rush today.” Maria spotted the fib and frowned a bit at Hermione, but knew it was difficult for Hermione to say no to someone who needed help.  
  
Hermione did not expect Narcissa Malfoy to walk into her office.  
   
She stumbled as she shot out of her chair, feeling confused over her surpise visitor. “Mrs. Malfoy, it is so nice to see you. What can I help you with?” The Malfoy matriarch smirked at Hermione’s apparent distress.  
  
“Please Miss Granger, you saved my family from a life away in prison. I do hope you will start to address me as Narcissa. Besides, Mrs. Malfoy makes me feel old.” Hermione chuckled.  
  
“I can do that as long as you call me Hermione.” She smiled at the older woman.  
  
“What a performance you put on out there. I must say that I am impressed by your unrelenting effort for equality. I do believe you may need a hand to get in touch with those of the remaining Pureblood circle, however. I have faith that together we could create a more unified community.” Hermione looked at her perplexed.  
  
“What would you like in exchange for your services? I’m assuming that you would like something out of this deal, Slytherin at heart and all,” Narcissa laughed.  
  
“Just tea, dear girl.”  
  
“Tea?” Hermione asked again, unsure if she hear her correctly.  
  
“Yes tea. As I said, Hermione, you saved my family’s life. I owe a great deal to you. I must admit, I feel terrible for my family’s past transgressions against you. I would like to get to know the witch who saved the Wizarding World.” Hermione blushed and went to argue.  
  
“Save it. You are too humble. You did a great deal to bring down the darkness overtaking our lives. I have watched you this past year, witnessing your compassion, determination, enthusiasm and strength. Please humor me and join me for tea, I insist.”  
  
“Okay,” Hermione relaxed the tension in her body a bit, “I actually have about an hour cleared for lunch right now.”  
  
“Perfect, I know just the place to go.” Hermione immediately felt unsettled by the smug look on the other witch’s face.

. . . . .

A few seconds later the pair landed in an upscale restaurant. Hermione could tell the place reeked of old money, resembling her parents’ favourite private club back home. It looked elegantly decorated with fresh flowers, large windows that opened up the space and classical Wizarding music playing in the background. They people sitting around the tables in the room were dressed in expensive robes and Hermione felt out of place, moving her hands to dust off invisible flint on her robes.  
  
“Don’t worry dear, you look just fine in those robes,” Narcissa whispered as they were seated. Hermione silently thanked Ginny for helping her pick out her robes for the press.  
  
They spent the course of the meal talking about activities that they enjoyed, surprising Hermione about how similar the two were. They were able to easily talk about literature, international affairs, and potions research. She gaped openly when she found out that Narcissa enjoyed to garden and even cook.

“What about your house elves?” Narcissa had laughed at her shock.  
  
“My personal house elf actually taught me how to cook. I spent many days alone at the manor with not much else to do, and Rosie loved being able to work with me for several hours. I learned that both cooking and baking are much like potions. It relaxed me to create my own dishes. My son also has quite the sweet tooth so he enjoyed when I made him special treats. I remember one time when he was about six years old, he wandered into the kitchens determined to help me. He tried his best to help me bake some chocolate chip cookies but he ended up accidentally dropping the entire bag of sugar into the bowl. I must have been turned away at the time because when I faced him again he was happily stirring his creation. It wasn’t until we took them out of the oven and they were extremely dark and crumbled as soon as we tried to pick it up.” She smiled fondly at her own memory.  
  
“I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to imagine your son as an adorable little kid. He was always quite the little prat to me and my friends.” Hermione tried to joke but it came out a touch too serious.  
  
Oh, but my dragon always was such a Momma’s boy. I do wish I could go back and not spoil him as much but I can only try to guide him to be a better man now. I know my son deeply regrets his actions and how he treated you, especially with how much help you’ve given us this past year. I honestly think he had a bit of a schoolboy crush on you growing up, considering how he constantly talked about you. It would always be about how you were beating him at this, or you were being a ‘swotty know-it-all’ that. I believe he was a bit jealous that he couldn’t befriend you.” Hermione laughed at that, it was too ridiculous to even believe.  
  
“I hope he comes around to talk to you, Hermione. I know he is trying to pay a penance for his actions. He doesn’t believe that he deserves the forgiveness that you have already given him for his part in the war. I know my son. He is plagued by nightmares and spends his days half awake and barely living. It breaks my heart to walk with him in town and hear what people say to his face. Some people even hex him in the streets.” Hermione gasped.  
  
“That’s horrible! He was exonerated of all charges. He was just a kid!” She exclaimed, “I don’t understand the need for people to have a scapegoat. I know the war was terrible, but we all lost people we loved.” They sat in a few moments of silence eating their food.  
  
“I do forgive him, you know. If he were to approach me, I wouldn’t send him away or pretend to like him. Your son is quite the challenge, and to be honest there’s not many who I can hold a proper conversation with without it turning to Quidditch.” Hermione shuddered at the thought of her and Ron’s brief romantic encounter, fizzling out weeks after their passionate kiss in the Chamber of Secrets. She felt like she wanted to hit her head through a wall constantly with how little they had in common. She loved her friend, but she wanted more than someone who only cared about Quidditch, Wizarding Chess, and starting a family. After only two weeks together he started hinting at Hermione staying home to raise their kids and she knew immediately to end things.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that Hermione.” Narcissa gave a knowing smirk, but Hermione had no idea what the older witch had in store for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione and Narcissa fell into an easy acquaintance with each other. If Hermione were honest with herself, she would admit that their relationship exceeded ‘just colleagues’ in a matter of weeks. She originally assumed that they would be meeting once a week to talk about business, but found that she quite enjoyed spending her afternoons with Narcissa. Hermione adored her time with the older witch immensely, but it often made her miss spending time with her own mum. She had to remind herself quite often that Narcissa was someone else’s mother and only spent time with her so they could make a difference in the Wizarding World.  
  
However, Narcissa enjoyed doting on Hermione, and Hermione craved the motherly affection given to here. Their relationship quickly grew into one of fondness and endearment. To the surprise of Hermione’s friends, Narcissa even roped Hermione into spending more time with her outside of their lunches to do some shopping. Hermione always ended up bringing home several new robes that Narcissa vowed were _just darling_ on her and she _had_ to have. Every time she tried to bring up that she didn’t want to spend her money on new robes, Narcissa would insist on paying for the robes herself.

It wasn’t all fun and games; they still did focus on strategies to reach out to the Pureblood community during their time together. They decided eventually that the best course of action would be to host a charity ball in honour of fundraising for reconstruction after the war.  
  
“I think it might be a wonderful idea if we set up an organization for orphans of war and women suffering from abusive homes.” Hermione pointed out one afternoon.  
  
“I think that would be excellent, but I know many women in my circle who suffered at the hands of their husbands and are either afraid of reaching out or have terrible PTSD after the imprisonment of their spouse. It would be important to not call them out at the gala, but simply let them know that they are not alone and can reach out for help. We are proud women, and no one will come forward if they believe that we know they need help.”  
  
“One of the issues we’ll come across in order to help these women is the separation of spouses. Divorce is still very frowned upon in the Wizarding community, and next to impossible with the bonds that Purebloods have during their weddings. I’ve researched it to the best of my abilities, and the bonds tie the couples’ magic to each other. Women are still seen as men’s property and don’t have the right to leave their husband to the Wizengamot. If we can try to change the stigma behind divorce, as well as the sexist laws, it would be a start. We wouldn’t be able to really do anything helpful though until we figure out a way to unbind a married couple without harming their magical cores.” Hermione stared off in thought to figure out what to do.  
  
“I think I may be able to help with that.” Her interest was immediately perked.  
  
“My son actually is an excellent researcher. We have many old texts in the library at the Manor and I am positive between the two of you, you’ll be able to work something out.” Narcissa smiled smugly.  
  
“Are you sure about that he would even want to help?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at Narcissa’s smirk.  
  
“Trust me, he has nothing going on right now. I am sure he would enjoy the stimulation. Right now he’s just studying to sit for his N.E.W.T.s and overseeing Malfoy Enterprise with Lucius on house arrest in France. He usually ends up at the office for two hours and comes home to complain about the staff. Don’t worry, let me deal with him and you two will be able to start soon.”  
  
“Okay,” Hermione let out slowly, “You talk to him, and I will start drafting some new laws. I have a decent amount of practice with it now after this past year.” The ladies finished their meal talking as old friends before heading their separate way.

. . . . .

Draco Malfoy felt indifferent about his dull life. Every day would go exactly the same; he would wake up, run for several miles around the estate, shower, go into the family business to deal with his father’s orders, come home, eat, and spend the rest of the night study seventh year material he missed in order to take his N.E.W.T.s.  
  
Occasionally his friends would insist he joined them at a get-together. He usually declined with force when they asked him to public places because there always seemed to be more trouble once he arrived. They all just wanted a bit of normalcy and to hang out and enjoy life as teenagers were supposed to. The crowd usually seemed to be left alone other than glares, but it became more volatile once they saw the person who caused the downfall of Dumbledore.

Tonight they were sitting in the back of the Leaky enjoying a few butterbeers. Draco made sure to get a seat in the corner out of eyesight. He sighed longingly as he watched Theo Nott and Daphne Greengrass stutter and blush around each other. They realized how much they would have lost during the war and decided to pursue a relationship they danced around for years. Draco desperately wished that he could find a woman who treated him as a partner, not some slag after him for his money or for the mark on his arm.  
  
It sickened him that there were women who approached him in the bar and asked him what it felt like to be in The Dark Lord’s presence. They practically salivated at the mouth when they asked to see his mark, usually reaching for it over his clothes without asking. He would sneer and dismiss their affections quite rudely, but he didn’t want to be with anyone who idolized The Dark Lord after his downfall.  
  
Then there were others who turned their noses up at him and acted as if they were any better than him. They would scowl would mumble under their breath at him, telling him that he was Death Eater scum. He could barely hold his tongue as he noticed some who stayed neutral during the war, not even brave enough to fight but still had the nerve to call him a coward.  He held his head up high, but inside it killed him that people still believed that he willingly took the mark.

  
He tried to bring a few more mellow witches home in the past, but it never felt _right_. He would try to make it past feeling them under their clothes and a part of his mind screamed at him to stop. A voice so loud that he couldn’t help ignore it, even if he desperately wanted to. He usually sent them home with as they screamed profanities at him, secretly enraged that they couldn’t trick him with pregnancy.  
  
Pansy had offered to help him out and take his virginity after the war, but he cringed at the idea of sleeping with a girl close enough to be his sister. He had shuddered and Pansy snorted out in laughter because she felt the same about him. She offered again that night, but he was starting to think she just did it to watch him recoil.

After a random hex barely missed his head, he decided to call it a night and go home. He walked aimlessly around the hallway, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
Draco looked down at the object of his hatred on his arm and self-loathing thoughts filled his mind. He had tried everything to remove the mark but knew it would never be permanently gone. The scar still looked raised and angry, and he hated the dark magic he still felt running in his veins. He wished he could have lived a different life. Or even just a different upbringing. He especially wished he had a different _name._  
  
He had plopped down on the couch in the library at some point, so far in his thoughts that he didn’t hear his mother approach. He snapped out of it when he felt the couch sink down and looked up to his smirking mother. He immediately let his head fall onto her shoulders, allowing her to rub his head soothingly.  
  
He loved his mother dearly, a woman often misjudged as cold and unaffectionate. He sighed into her touch, happy to see her looking more alive and demonstrative of her emotions the past few weeks. He yearned to know the spark to the change.  
  
I need to ask you a favor, my dear Dragon.” He smiled at her. He loved when she addressed him with her affectionate name for him.  
  
“Yes, of course mum, anything you need.” She looked at him smugly and he immediately wondered what he just got himself into.  
  
“I’ve been meeting up with someone important to me these past few weeks. We’ve begun a project that we believe will help mend the Wizarding community. I need her help because she’s well respected, and well, our name isn’t what it used to be.” He nodded at her solemnly.  
  
“She’s such a lovely girl, Draco. You know I love you more than everything, but that girl reminds me of the daughter I always craved. She’s intelligent, fierce, resilient, and incredibly beautiful. She’s a wonderful conversationalist, and I’ve found myself growing quite fond of her throughout the development of our project. However, I don’t think we can do this alone. We need help on our mission and I know you are proficient in research. Do you think you would be willing to work beside her to find what we need to continue on our objective?” She smiled at him sweetly.  
  
“Of course I will. You have looked so full of life over these past couple weeks, and if this witch has anything to do with it, I must give her my thanks.”  
  
“Thank you, love.” She kissed his cheek and began to stand up.  
  
“Oh, and just so you know ahead of time, it’s Hermione Granger. She’ll be coming around tomorrow morning to start looking through the library.” She smirked, patted his cheek and left her son speechless on the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione rolled on to her back and groaned as she stretched her muscles. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and grumbled at the time. Seven am on the dot, just like any other time she attempted to sleep in. She had hoped to get a little bit more time of shut eye to prepare for the day. She felt unnecessarily nervous, even though she just had to get ready to see Narcissa.

_ And Draco,  _ a part of her mind reminded her and she brushed it off quickly.

“Crooks, I have a feeling today is not going to go well.” The orange fluffball just stared at her and jerked his tail, patiently awaiting his breakfast and silently telling his human she had no reason to worry.

Hermione poured some cat food in Crookshank’s dish and turned on the coffee pot. Extra strong coffee for today; she knew she would be thanking herself later.

She told Narcissa that she would be there at nine am sharp. She honestly felt amazed when she got a letter saying that Malfoy agreed to help her. She knew that he apologized for everything he had done as a child, but it didn’t make him any less of a sarcastic arse. She hoped they could just get along for a few hours without bickering.

Hermione spent longer than usual under the hot stream of water in the shower. She placed her forehead against the cool tile and let the water run down her back and relax her muscles.

She wrapped a soft towel around her body and stepped in front of her full length mirror. She loosened her grasp on the fabric and let it pool around her feet so she could examine her body.

Her dampened curls fell heavy and slack around her face and looked longer than usual. She noticed that her hair seemed to be growing faster than ever before, but she put it to finally eating better and getting a healthy amount of rest. Her body seemed to become more defined every time she looked in the mirror. Her clothing had become more snug around her waist as she had developed curves, years of stunted puberty finally catching up. Her legs looked toned and lean. It even seemed that the scars littered her body were fading more quickly than normal. She knew her looks caught some more attention lately, and she didn’t want to question a good thing. Not that she wanted to date the men who seemed more attracted to her just because the her looks changed, but it did help her feel more confident in her own skin.

She carefully picked out an outfit to wear, promising herself that she didn’t want to dress nice to impress Malfoy, but instead told herself that Narcissa had standards. Yes, she would look nice for the Malfoy Matriarch.

She picked out a soft navy blouse with tight black slacks. She turned around and noticed her arse looked rounder than usual. It may be time for new clothes soon, and she sighed over the idea of spending more money on herself. She knew that Narcissa would be more than happy to join her to the shops. Hermione picked out a pair of short black heels, and an elegant pearl necklace to complete the look. She quickly dried and styled her hair and gave herself one last lookover.

At five of nine, she grabbed some floo powder and shouted for Malfoy Manor, arriving in their sitting room with Narcissa waiting for her with a smile upon her face.

“Hermione dear. You look lovelier than usual.”

“Well, I just have some errands to run later, so I wanted to make sure I looked nice enough to stop by the Ministry.” She ignored Narcissa’s knowing hum and smirk.

Narcissa walked over and grabbed Hermione by the arm and escorted her through a tour of the Manor. While walking in the halls, she felt Hermione tense.

“That part of the Manor has been demolished and repaired. Too many bad memories for the both of us.” Hermione gave her a weak smile, silently thanking her for addressing her own concerns head-on.

They approached a refined wooden doorway with gold trim. “I think this will be your favourite room yet,” Narcissa whispered and Hermione felt excitement bubble over.

They walked into the most magnificent library that Hermione had ever seen. She could not contain the sharp intake of her breath as she walked around, inspecting the thousands of texts running along the wall. She could tell there were many first edition copies and original tomes in this room. She loved being in a room with so much knowledge that she didn’t even know where to start.

“Still ever the bookworm Granger?” She heard a deep familiar voice from behind her.

She turned around and to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the door with a smirk on his beautiful face.

_ Just his face. _ She internally groaned at the added adjective.

_ But _ he definitely is a gorgeous man. He had a tall lean figure and silky pale hair that hung loosely in his face. He had a deliciously long neck that she couldn’t help but want to sink her teeth into.

She had no idea where these thoughts were coming from, but she tried to shake herself from her trance. She knew that his ego would inflate more than necessary if she didn’t close her mouth, stop staring, and say something witty.

“Well hello Malfoy,” she said huskily. Not witty. Not even remotely. She inwardly groaned.

He quirked an eyebrow but walked into the room and shoved his hands in his front pockets. He looked comfortable wearing a cashmere grey sweater and dark wash jeans.  _ Jeans _ . And they fit his arse spectacularly.

“So Granger. Mother tells me you’re trying to find out a way to unbind souls?” He questioned, trying to make pleasantries.

“Yes. We wanted to find a way to help women who truly need it. In our patriarchal society, women are viewed as objects. A man can mentally and physically abuse his wife, but to the Ministry, there isn’t a good enough reason for divorce. Not even if their husband is in Azkaban due to the bond. Many wedding vows include fidelity clauses as well, leaving for a very lonely life for those women. If we could find a way to unbind a husband and wife’s magical cores, we could bring forth laws to allow for divorce and get rid of those disgusting ones already in place.” She placed her arms on her hips and continued talking as he opened his mouth to respond. 

“Your Mother has become quite dear to me. I know we have not had the best interactions throughout our history, but I am willing to put it all in the past so we can get this accomplished.” She finished in a stern voice that dared him to defy her.

He laughed at her and gave her a dazzling smile. “I can do that Granger. I honestly wanted to thank you.” Hermione could not keep the surprised look off her face. “My Mother has not been much more than an empty shell in years. Thank you for giving her back her shine, I really missed seeing her smile” He paused for a moment and gave her a serious look.

“And I also wanted to apologize to you again... I was a prat to you during Hogwarts. You are an incredible and brilliant witch; I am so sorry I made you feel less than that. I don’t deserve the kindness you’ve shown me since the war.” He bit his lip while looking at her guiltily and she softened her gaze.

“Malfoy, I forgave you a long time ago. Yes, you were a spoiled prat, but I never thought you were evil. I don’t think you are even capable of doing those despicable things that people spread rumours about.  _ I  _ am so sorry for what you had to go through. I know I may not be the one you want to talk to, but I am here if you ever need a friend to listen. The war hurt us all and we lost so much. It’s time to bury the hatchet and move forward. What do you say?” She reached out her hand and smiled shyly, “Hi, I’m Hermione Granger. It’s nice to meet you.”

His lips quirked up and he took her hand, “Hello Hermione, I’m Draco Malfoy. It’s my pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Hermione felt a jolt of electricity and a pull towards him. She quickly dropped his hand and took a couple paces to the bookshelf, ignoring the startled look on his face. She didn’t even want to think about whether or not he felt that as well.

“So, where should we begin?”

Draco and Hermione spent hours sifting through the Malfoy archives for books that could be useful. Hermione couldn’t stop staring at the blonde over her shoulder. She simply couldn’t help herself; she felt inexplicably drawn to him and she had no idea why. She watched as he twisted a short strand of his hair around a finger and couldn’t help but want to see if his hair felt as silky as it looked.

_ And his smell _ . His smell was driving her crazy. She knew she would be addicted to it if she spent more time with him. He smelled like green apples, expensive cologne, and spearmint. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes as she relished the scent. When she opened her eyes she noticed him staring at her with a small smirk on his face. She quickly buried her head in the book and hoped he wouldn’t notice her blush.

“I think we need to start looking at older literature. Perhaps even some information in our Dark Arts books. I know it sounds crazy, but it makes sense: Unbinding souls. If you really think about it, dark magic could be used for good intentions and vice versa. I’ve seen light magic used with bad intentions as well.” He looked at her and tensed, waiting for the obvious blow up over his idea. 

“I think you might be onto something,” she started slowly, “but how would we ever get the Wizengamot to approve of using a spell from dark literature?”

“We research it well. Figure out everything we know about what it does and how it’s cast. We prove to them that even though it may be created by a dark wizard, we could alter it. Most magic, after all, is grey and not just black and white as we’re taught.” She nodded her head in agreement.

“Okay. You know your library best, so lead the way.” She followed him around the bookshelves helping him carry back tomes to the table. She tried to ignore how every time he placed a book in her hands and brushed her exposed skin it felt like burning fire. She tried to ignore how she impulsively leaned closer to him when he came near her. She tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered when he smiled genuinely at her.

That night she went home and felt like screaming her frustrations into her pillow. She couldn’t see her newly developed attractions for Draco ending well.


	4. Chapter 4

Two months had passed and Hermione found herself spending more time at the Manor than she wanted to admit. It started out as little things, like joining for dinner. It became hard for Hermione to not accept Narcissa’s offers to join them for dinner since it beat eating alone. She still occasionally went over to the Burrow, but she felt like she was on the outside looking in with them. Even with Fred being gone, they still were such a complete family. She constantly felt like she imposed on their time together, no matter how many times Molly told her she was part of the Weasley Clan.

She hated to admit it, but things were different since her breakup from Ron. She hoped that they would go back to being friends, but she soon realized they were really only friends because of Harry. Ron still became jealous of her relationship with Harry even after the breakup, making everyone uncomfortable at family dinners when he accused the two of them seeing each other behind his sister’s back when they were joking around together. Ginny pulled Hermione aside and gave her trust, which Hermione greatly appreciated. She also informed Hermione that she would be willing to hex her brother at any point.

Harry and Hermione were more like siblings. They had both lost their families so they clung to each other.  Their bond together was special, and most of the Weasley’s understood it. Most did not include Ron.

Her time with Narcissa was different than any time with the Weasley’s. She spent time with Hermione simply because she wanted to. She would take her to lunch, to shop, and or to the spa. They spent the most time together one on one, and Narcissa always made sure to focus all of her attention on Hermione. She made her feel important and loved.

Narcissa quickly became the mother Hermione needed in her life. Sometimes she felt guilty that her own mother had no idea she had a daughter and she wasn’t searching for a way to return their memories properly. If she were honest, she truly felt afraid that her parents would be too hurt over what happened and wouldn’t forgive her. The only thing worse for Hermione than not having her parents have any recollection of her was having her parents have their memories but still wanted nothing to do with her.

Hermione always made sure that she kept her parents in her heart, but often focused all of her energy on the research with Narcissa to help with the void they left. They spent most of their days sitting together working, and usually finished their nights drinking tea by the fire.

They wished to create a Family Law Division at the Ministry, and they could only hope that by laying everything out to the last detail would help their cause. They drafted two new charities to set up: Granger’s House, an orphanage dedicated to providing necessities and a stable home for the kids who no longer have guardianship; and Dum Spiro Spero, a shelter for those who need a place to escape abuse from family or spouses. It translates to “While I breathe, I hope” in Latin, which they both agreed felt like a meaningful name for their organization.

While Hermione and Narcissa’s relationship developed more meaningfully than Hermione could have ever thought, her feelings for Draco became stronger every day. He had a quick wit that kept her on his toes, and a dark sense of humour that seemed to balance hers perfectly. His intelligence and passion about what he believed in often lead to very heated debates between the pair. She found so many of his traits endearing; like when his nostrils flares while he’s angry or the way his reading glasses hang in his face while enraptured in a book. She loved how comfortable he felt around her; often stealing bites of Hermione’s food of her plate and laughing at her display of rage.

Hermione loves the way he calls out her own name when he’s not paying attention or when he’s too overjoyed to remember to call her ‘Granger.’ She loves the way he absent-mindedly puts his arm around her chair and plays with her curls when they sit next to each other. She loves that while he’s often comfortable around her, he still remembers to be a gentleman at heart; pulling out her chair at the table, opening doors for her, escorting her while walking side by side. She loves how open he became around her, sharing emotions that she never knew he possessed.

She knew he felt terrified of becoming his father, of being a coward, and not doing anything important with his life. She knew how he desperately craved to have a little girl of his own to spoil and love, even though most believed he just wanted an heir to carry out the family name. She knew how he wanted to teach his own kids to fly a broom and play Quidditch. After everything he’s told her, she often wondered if her feelings were still one-sided, or if he felt the same pull to her.

She noticed that their time together left her feeling possessive and jealous of Draco. She logically knew he wasn’t hers, but a part of her screamed constantly at her that he was. She hated that voice inside her head and, embarrassingly enough, Narcissa caught her on more than one occasion arguing with herself.

One evening, Draco’s close friend Pansy joined them for dinner. The pair of them got on famously and had each other laughing in riot all night. Hermione enjoyed the way Pansy made him laugh, she really did crave his happiness. However, when they retired to the sitting room for tea Pansy placed her hand on Draco’s arm to be escorted. Hermione saw red and immediately became enraged. She didn’t know how lost in her own mind she was until Narcissa pulled her aside and jerked her back to reality. She saw the older witch smiling smugly at her and giving her a curiously look at the same time.

“Are you alright dear?” She questioned lightly. Hermione didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded in response.

“Dear, your eyes are completely black, are you sure you’re alright?” She could tell how much she startled Narcissa upon looking at her, all joking and playfulness tossed to the side.

Hermione croaked out a weak ‘yes’ and looked at Narcissa in obvious pain. Narcissa reached out and stroked her hair in comfort. She grabbed her clenched fists and gasped at the sight of the blood seeping out of her fingers.  When Hermione finally opened up her hands, her palms pooled with blood. Narcissa immediately found four marks on each of her hands that looked surprisingly unlike fingernail markings.

Narcissa healed her with a quick wand movement and ushered her into the sitting room. To both their relief, Pansy and Draco were sitting in different lounges. Draco sat alone on a loveseat, and Hermione felt an overwhelming desire to sit crawl up onto his lap and breath in his comforting smell. She sat next to him closer than usual, granting her a questioning look from him. Gratefully Narcissa quickly changed the subject to talk about the plans they have in motion for the Wizengamot.

Hermione learned later that night that Pansy was currently in a relationship with Blaise Zabini and very much in love. She felt immediate relief that her mate’s friend had no intentions of being with him.

_ Mate? _

What the  _ hell--? _

She shook herself out of her trance and back into the conversation with Pansy. They were talking about the differences between Muggle and Magical designers, and how Pansy dreamed of creating a store that infused both. She quickly took a liking to the stubborn and sassy witch once she noticed Pansy and Draco sharing the same looks that she and Harry shared. She mentally slapped herself for assuming that the two were more than friends, only to see they were more like siblings.

But really, what claim did she have on Draco? He wasn’t hers, and he didn’t seem to show interest in her that way either.

Later that night she sat by the fire with Narcissa, both separately reading their own novels. She stood up and stretched, preparing to head out to her room.

It had been a painfully long argument, but Narcissa won in the end. Hermione spent so much time at the Manor that Narcissa felt like Hermione needed her own room. Hermione dreaded going back to her own flat after spending several nights in her heavenly guest suite. The bath was sublime, and she loved ending her night soaking with a glass of wine. A luxury she didn’t have in her own apartment. Crookshanks even had his own little palace at the Manor so she didn’t have to worry about him staying by himself too much. Narcissa even filled Hermione’s walk-in closet one day with a new wardrobe, something Hermione especially put up a fight about. She was an adult after all and could take care of herself. But in the end, Narcissa’s tearful explanation of always wanting a daughter to dote on had her huffing and accepting the grand gesture. Damn Slytherins.

She really was becoming too accustomed to living at the Manor. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stay once Draco had his own wife and family.

The pain she felt at that thought put her in absolute agony. Her heart felt like it broke at the idea of Draco being with someone else other than herself. She rubbed her aching chest and bid her goodnights, too consumed in her own thoughts to see Narcissa reading a textbook about Veelas.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Narcissa Malfoy knew more than she let on. She had always known that her son had an odd soft spot for the Golden Trio’s own Muggleborn, Hermione Granger. Of course, he covered his childhood fascination of her with endless insults. Narcissa didn’t know if he acted more to appease Lucius or if it was just for Draco’s own sanity. Either way, her son had had his eye on Hermione for quite some time.

She knew for certain when she overheard a conversation between him and his best friends, Theo and Blaise, the summer between fourth and fifth year. They were spending the night at the Manor and she overheard the two other boys tease Draco for his crush, which he vehemently denied. Curious over who had her son passionately denying his affections, she decided to stay close to the door, but out of sight. And that’s when she heard it.

“I said Granger looked good one time, are you guys ever going to let it go?” her son whined out.

“Mate, you said she was the most beautiful girl in the room and barely took your eyes off her the entire night. Not to mention you almost punched me in the face when I made a joke about Krum not saving her in time during the second task at the Black Lake. You even study in the library at the desk that I know has a perfect sight of Granger’s designated table. Just admit it mate, you have it bad.” Blaise was chuckling at her son’s frustrated groans.

“I have never liked Granger, not for a single second, and I never will. So  _ back off _ .”

And that was it. The other two heard his commanding voice and quickly changed the subject.

Narcissa walked away from the room with a smirk on her face. Sure, the girl may not be a Pureblood, however, she was known as the brightest witch of their age. And of course, Malfoys always have the best.

The moment she heard Hermione Granger avidly fight for their freedom after the war, boasting over small actions she claimed ‘changed the tides of war,’ she questioned whether or not those intense feelings of her son were one-sided.

It didn’t help the poor girl’s case when Narcissa noticed her taking every opportunity to watch Draco during the trials. She caught her gaze at one point and noticed her quickly change her direction to hide a blush creeping up her face.

Of course, she truly believed in helping Hermione’s cause so she could help her friends finally be free of sociopathic husbands, but she also knew she needed to get close to the witch. Especially if she would be her future daughter in law.

She knew her son believed himself to be unworthy of Hermione’s affections. That is, of course, if she shared his affections. She knew she needed to gain the witch’s trust and bring her into their everyday life.

She knew she was on the right path after their first interaction together. The fact that they only had eyes for each other at that moment, completely forgetting her presence in the library with them, confirmed it. She had quietly made herself scarce, and neither realized she even left.

The following two months flew by. The group became closer to finding what they were actively searching for, and she felt prepared to take on the Wizengamot. She, of course, insisted on Hermione spending more time than necessary at the Manor. Even going out of her way to offer a suite and allowing her beast of a cat entrance into their home. Hermione repeatedly refused to stay, however, she quickly changed her mind when she saw the ensuite bathroom. Narcissa knew you could charm any witch with a luxurious bathroom.

Narcissa spent fewer nights alone and more with the darling witch. She even found that Draco was more likely to join them at night rather than hide in his room if she were around. Interesting, considering he still denied being fond of her.

She knew that Hermione missed her own parents dearly. Narcissa felt the heavy weight of guilt on her chest about her role in a war that caused the poor girl to take those drastic actions. She currently had a group of researchers developing and testing a potion to help bring back memories to those obliviated. A potion in which her son took a particular interest in once the three of them had a conversation about Hermione’s parents at dinner one night.

She didn’t want to get the girl’s hopes up, but they were making large strides in development. They currently had a potion that allowed an individual to recall the memories, but then lost them again after a day or so. Hopefully, they would find a permanent solution by strengthening the potency of the potion.

It didn’t take long for Narcissa to notice quirks of the girl that often left her puzzled. She would unconsciously move closer to her son whenever they were in close proximity together. She sought comfort from Draco first, whenever she felt uneasy or nervous, even though she had been in a relationship longer with Narcissa. Hermione’s eyes sought out Draco whenever she entered a room, even if she could not physically see him. She could even detect when Draco was in large amounts of distress from a room away.

The moment she finally understood what might be happening was the dinner with Pansy. The entire night Hermione seemed more on edge, and seemed to develop… inhuman characteristics when Draco physically touched Pansy in an intimate gesture.

Her eyes became completely black and she grew small sharp talons where her fingernails usually were. Hermione gripped her hands so tightly that she drew her own blood.

Narcissa had heard of things like this happening before, but never in the case of a muggleborn. Maybe, just maybe…

. . . . .

“Hermione, dear, when is your birthday?” The two were currently in the library for their afternoon tea.

“September 19th. Why do you ask?”

“I knew it was coming up but didn’t know the exact date,” Narcissa said innocently, “I just thought that you would like to have a dinner party here to celebrate, your twentieth, correct? I do remember you being a bit older for your year. You could invite the Weasley’s around if you’d like. The elves are always looking for a reason to cook for a large gathering.”

Hermione smiled brightly, “Yes, my twentieth. Would you really do that for me? Usually, we have a get together at the Burrow, but things have been different after things ended between Ron and me.”

“Yes, of course, ask them over. Perhaps since your birthday is on a Sunday, you could ask them over for a Saturday night?”

“Thank you so much, Narcissa, I will go floo call them right now.” She left the room quickly with a slight bounce in her step. It warmed Narcissa’s heart that something so simple could mean the world to the girl.

She really hated deceiving her. She knew that if Hermione were a Veela, she would be undergoing a painful transformation on her twentieth birthday. She wanted her to have a special night beforehand. If, of course, her assumptions were correct.

Narcissa had spent much of her time outside of working on the Department of Family Law researching family lines and Veela blood. She noted that many of the symptoms of a turning Veela were similar to the strange behaviours Hermione possessed. It seemed that every passing day Hermione became more and more beautiful. Hermione looked like she was even glowing recently; her son could hardly keep his eyes off of her whenever she was around.

If Hermione truly were to transform, she would need all of the support she could get. Everything about her life would be turned upside down. She would learn that she wasn't truly a muggleborn, and Narcissa hated to think of how the public would spin it if any rumours were to get out.

It would explain her undeniable attraction and possessiveness of Draco, assuming that Draco was her mate. It would explain how the two had been drawn to each other for years.

Narcissa felt anxious about how their night would play out. She did not let Hermione and Draco know that she had invited over an additional guest for dinner. Specifically, company she knew would give anything to be with Draco.

She only hoped she hadn't made the wrong decision in inviting her over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so much love. Thank you so much for all of the kind words. I really hope you guys continue to enjoy <3

“Are you sure we’re welcomed there, dear? Our families do not have the best history together,” Molly Weasley questioned Hermione over the floo.

“Of course Molly. As I was telling you two weeks ago at brunch, I’ve become quite close to the Malfoy’s over the past few months. It’s been nice not having to be by myself all of the time over at my apartment. Narcissa was actually the one to suggest the dinner party and extending the invitation to you. She knows how much I love your family. I would love if you were all able to come to celebrate. I know I’m not one for parties, but I would really enjoy having everyone I hold dear to me together.” She paused for a moment and mauled an idea in her head, “I know Narcissa regrets cutting off her sister from her life, so maybe you should invite Andie over as well. It would be a nice reunion for them.”

“Okay, well as long as it’s fine I’ll bring it up to the others and get back to you. You know you are always welcomed here if you need us, but I understand it can get hard at times. I will try to talk to Ron about this,  _ reasonably _ . Goodnight Hermione.”

“Bye Molly, I hope to hear from you soon!” Hermione’s heart swelled from the kindness of her pseudo-mother for offering to have Weasley’s over in her home. She giggled to think about what Mr Malfoy would have to say if he knew about hosting Weasley’s over willingly to his home. She felt more excited over her birthday than she had in years.

However, her bliss didn’t last long at all. A stabbing pain shot through her heart sending her to her knees. She placed pressure over her chest and a low whimper escaped her mouth. A few seconds later she heard an obnoxious giggle come from somewhere in the manor.

She stood up slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of a brick being laid upon on her chest, and followed the laughter. She entered the room to see Narcissa with a tight smile on her face and a blonde girl draped over Draco on the couch.

_ Mine,  _ her internal voice screamed. Hermione wanted to snarl and claw the other witch’s eyes out. She felt every inch of her body try to push herself forward to pry her off of  _ her _ mate but she found herself conflicted with rational thought.

_ What the fuck is going on? _

She looked up in time to see the girl place a kiss on Draco’s lips and then everything went black.

. . . . .

Narcissa welcomed Astoria into their sitting room and offered her a cup of tea. Astoria already started on about her father wanting to set up a marriage contract between Draco and herself. The young girl told Narcissa that her father was adamant that the Malfoy’s were the right fit for the Greengrass family.

_ More like they just want Draco’s inheritance,  _ Narcissa tried her best not to roll her eyes, and hid her discontent by laughing stiffly at Astoria with a vague “we’ll see.”

She knew that the absolute last person she wanted for her son was Astoria. While she may be well mannered at times, Narcissa knew Astoria’s true attributes; conceited, spoiled, selfish, and disingenuous. She would latch onto Draco for his wealth and good looks but do nothing to stimulate him.

Her son is a highly intelligent and snarky individual; he needs someone to match his own wit and someone not afraid to put him in his place. She knew Hermione would be a lovely fit for him, but her son still refused to make a move. Narcissa didn’t know whether or not he still believed he had to uphold the expectations of marrying a Pureblood, or he simply felt unworthy of the witch.

Narcissa hoped that her suspicions were correct about Hermione being a Veela. That way her son could finally deal with his feelings for her without using the excuse of not being good enough; Hermione would die without his acceptance as her mate. Narcissa did not want to lose her new daughter to something avoidable, or her son because of the guilt resting on his shoulders.

. . . . .

Draco walked into the room faltered slightly over the company. He quickly masked his emotions before walking over to Astoria and kissing her hand in a gentlemanly gesture.

“Welcome Astoria, what do I owe to my pleasure of seeing you tonight?” He hid his disgust well as she tried to bat her eyelashes flirtatiously at him.

“Your mother invited me over for dinner. It’s a good time to talk about upcoming nuptials between the three of us.”

“ _What?”_ For a moment he forgot his manners and hissed at Astoria. His mother had said _nothing_ to him about a betrothal with one of the Greengrass sisters. In fact, she had not said a word to him about marriage in general.

He looked over to his mother for an answer but Astoria grabbed his hand greedily and brought him over to the couch, sitting directly on his lap.

_ How tactless could she be?  _ Sitting on him in front of his mother showed how desperate the bint truly was.

She kissed him on the lips and he forced himself not to gag or wipe her  _ slime  _ off with the back of his hand. It felt so  _ wrong  _ of her to kiss him, or even just to touch him. He tried to disentangle himself from the witch when he heard a thud from across the room.

He looked up to see Hermione laying passed out on the ground; his mother hurrying her way over to her side.

_ What the hell happened? Is she okay? Is she sick? _

His mind began filling with worry over the witch he’s grown to adore over the past few months. He loves her button nose and how it scrunches up as she laughs. He loves how her eyebrows furrow when she’s deep in concentration and how she absentmindedly sucks on her quill when she’s not writing. He loves her passion and her drive. He knew she would change the world, but didn’t think she would get anywhere if she tied herself with him. It’s one thing to stay at the Manor and enjoy their company, but to openly court him in public would be a nightmare. He didn’t want to assume his feelings were returned but felt hopeful over the number of times he caught her staring at him.

He just couldn’t let her bring her reputation down with his. He _ wouldn’t  _ do that to her _. _

He threw Astoria off his lap and rushed over to Hermione, concerned about her well-being  _ as a friend _ . “What’s going on?” He noticed how frantic his own mother looked, never a good sign. Narcissa Malfoy was the epitome of a cool and collected Pureblooded wife. She seemed to desperate check over Hermione’s vitals, obviously not happy with what she found.

“She’s okay dear, I’m just going to bring her up to her room. Why don’t you escort our guest out.” She looked over at Astoria, “I’m sorry dear but we will have to do dinner some other time. I know this is terribly impolite, but Hermione needs tending to.”

His mother called for her personal elf, Rosie, and had her apparate Hermione up to her suite. He watched her walk out of the room at a fast pace, but not to the point of running. A lady never runs.

He held his arm out to Astoria to escort her to the floo, but she just stuck out her lip in a pout. “Why do I have to go just because the mudblood fainted? We can spend time together alone, can’t we? We’ll be married soon enough anyway.” She gave him a sly smirk and Draco wanted to vomit. He scowled at her harshly, ripping his arm away from her.

“I do not _ ever  _ want to hear you call Hermione that disgusting slur again. I’d rather stay alone and unwed than ever touch you. Let me make myself clear. You will  _ never  _ be a Malfoy, Astoria. You can escort yourself out.”

He turned around and stormed from the room, halting when the thought of Astoria lingering came into his mind. “Daisy!” his elf popped into the room immediately and gave him a large smile. “What can Daisy do for Master?”

“Daisy, please make sure Astoria leaves the Manor by floo. If she’s found lingering, I am allowing you to do whatever you find as a suitable punishment for a trespasser.”

Her entire face lit up, and she smirked at him, “Daisy will do as you wish, Master.”

He tried to calm his beating heart by counting the steps up the stairs to Hermione’s room. It didn’t work; he just had to see her to make sure she was safe and well.

. . . . .

Narcissa took the stairs instead of apparating into Hermione’s room; she needed time to think her actions through.

She shouldn’t have pushed the girl. She had already seen the symptoms with Pansy, what did she expect would happen with a witch visibly falling all over her son? She hated herself for putting Hermione through any heartbreak. The only girl to ever feel like part of the family to Narcissa. She just had to know for sure, and Narcissa paid the price with a heavy dose of guilt.

She had seen the look on her face when Hermione entered the room. It looked like the life left her usually vibrant eyes. Her temperature felt abnormally high and she shook as if she were freezing. Her only hope was that she knew Rosie would be doing everything she could to help Hermione wake up from her shock.

when she walked into Hermione’s suite, she watched as Rosie placed cold towels on Hermione’s body. She thanked her dearly, promising she could take it from there, and only asked for dinner once Hermione woke.

“Anything for Mistress and Miss Minnie.” The nickname the elves gave for Hermione warmed her heart as she watched Rosie apparate out of the room.

Narcissa grabbed the washcloth from the water bucket and rung out the excess. She caressed Hermione’s face and watched her eyelids flutter gently. As she moved from her face to her neck and arms, she noticed that her wounds on her palms had reopened. Most likely from the spontaneous growth of talons.

She regretted taking actions into her own hands, instead of just bringing up her suspicions to Hermione. She heard a knock on the door and looked over to see her son in the doorway, his own face plastered with worry.

“Is she okay?” He asked softly, walking into the room.

“She will be, I’m not quite sure what happened.” She hated lying to her son but knew he would be enraged if he knew the stunt she just pulled.

“Where did those cuts on her hands come from?” He didn’t wait for her answer before suddenly running out of the room, saying over his shoulder that he would find his supply of Dittany. Narcissa wondered why he didn’t just call Daisy to fetch it for him.

When he returned, he sat down on the other side of her bed and gently took Hermione’s hand in his. Narcissa had never seen her son take such tender care of a person before other than herself. For a fleeting moment, she felt pleased that her family sat all together, trying to overlook the fact that her husband was in exile hundreds of miles away.

She took her eyes off of Draco and looked back to Hermione, noticing that she unconsciously moved closer towards Draco since he reentered the room. A small contented smile appeared on her face and Narcissa stifled a giggle when she heard Hermione lightly purring.

Thankfully Crookshanks also came to his human’s aid, sitting closely to Hermione and nudging his head under Hermione’s arm. Draco must have either thought the purring came from the Knealze or didn’t even hear the sound altogether.

She watched as her son tended to both hands carefully and then moved a piece of hair out of her face.

“I’m not quite sure why, but I think I should stay in here until she wakes up,” He said slowly, “I’m going to go grab my book from the library.”

She smirked slightly seeing her son care for his mate without even realizing it. Yes, she should not have meddled, but perhaps it’ll force her son to face his own feelings for the witch.

He walked back into the room, and instead of sitting in the armchair close by, he sat right next to Hermione in the bed. Hermione automatically nuzzled into his side, and Narcissa saw her son’s face soften and smile down at the girl beside him.

“What are you doing this evening mother?” She almost laughed at his gall. When she knew her snake of a son would never outright say he wanted her to leave, Narcissa knew he wanted to be alone with her.

“Well, we are having a dinner party for Hermione next Saturday for her birthday, so I believe I will go settle some details for that.”

“Her birthday is next weekend?”

“Yes, Her twentieth.” He smirked at her, “I know just what to get her. I’ll just need to expedite my plans a bit.”

“Well, I guess I will take my leave then, my Dragon. I know how positively enchanted you are. . . with your books.” He blushed.

She walked to the door and closed it behind her slowly. She took one last peek inside and saw her son cuddled into Hermione stroking her hair and arm with a brilliant smile on his face.

She snickered to herself and walked away, thinking of what colour to paint the nursery. However, there would be much to be done before then. She had a party to plan after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can’t thank you guys enough. Just about a 1000 views in a week, just unbelievable. Thank you SO much.
> 
> Thank you all for all the feedback, and if any of you are familiar with the old FFN version (which has been taken down), this chapter starts to deviate from the original plot, but it is much much better.

Hermione woke up feeling euphoric. After what felt like dying in her last moments of consciousness, she now appeared to be much more buoyant. She snuggled into the toasty warmth surrounding her very satisfied. Her tranquil state of mind left her feeling like she could lie here forever and everything would be okay. She knew that her home existed where she laid.

She inhaled deeply. Green apples. Expensive cologne. Spearmint.

She felt a hand rub soft circles on her shoulder and she nuzzled into the tender touch. She heard a masculine sigh and didn’t question herself when she began to purr. She reached her hand up and caressed the face nestled into her, feeling a bit of chin stubble before twirling a few silky locks around her fingers. She opened her eyes one at a time, allowing herself to focus in the midnight light, to see her mate cuddled into her. 

Draco. My Draco.

She hummed at this, clinging on to make sure that he couldn’t leave while she slept, and finally lost consciousness; drifting back into a restful sleep.

. . . . . 

Draco’s eyes blinked swiftly to remove the sleep out of his eyes. He felt disoriented for a moment, not knowing exactly where he fell asleep. He knew he wasn’t in his bed because he didn’t feel the Acromantula silk sheets he normally woke in. Surprisingly, he felt a warm body burrowed into his side. He thought he was possibly still dreaming, knowing the last time he slept in the same bed as anyone was as a little boy. And… did he hear purring? 

All of a sudden he remembered the events of the day. 

He shifted his head down and saw a mass of chestnut curls that prevented him from seeing Hermione’s face. He brushed some of the hair beside to see the pleased smile on her face as she snuggled possessively around him.

Her fingertips ghosted over the edge of his waistline, bringing to his attention his uncomfortably hard situation. He tried to turn over to get out of Hermione’s hold, but she kept her grip tight. He eventually settled for just being the small spoon, placing his hand under hers to make sure she couldn’t feel his arousal.

He sighed, but could not be upset at the situation. He had never felt so untroubled in his entire life than in that moment. 

He loved seeing Hermione so comfortable in his presence, not seeming to want to let him go. He hoped when they woke it wouldn’t of been just a blissful dream. 

He willed himself to get rid of his unwanted morning wood before twisting around onto his back. He kissed Hermione’s temple and kept his nose deep in her unruly curls.

He watched as her eyelids fluttered and he stiffened. Would she say anything about their intimate position? Would she mind to see herself wrapped around him? He knew they were friendly with one another, but he hoped he didn’t mix the signals he saw from her.

When he saw her eyes open and looked at him questioningly, he knew he fucked up and secretly groaned at his own idiocy. 

Her coffee coloured eyes had flecks of gold that shimmered in the moonlight and a faint blush had speckled across her cheeks. He silently waited for her to do or say something. Anything. 

He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding when she smiled at him brightly.

“Good morning,” she said with a yawn looking around, “or night? What happened Draco?”

“You fainted and gave us quite a scare. I wanted to stay with you to make sure you were alright. I hope you don’t mind.” 

She leaned over and checked the time with her wand. She then stretched and moved back to nuzzle her face back into his neck. “I don’t mind at all. It’s still early, only two in the morning. We should go back to sleep.” She inhaled deeply, “You smell wonderful.”

He laughed. “Thank you?” 

She yawned and lazily said, “Yes, you smell like home.” 

He jerked his head to look at her but she had already fallen fast asleep. 

He wondered if she was aware of what she just said to him, realizing that she felt like home to him too. He felt butterflies fill his abdomen and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, loving her sigh of contentment. 

 _Screw it._ _I’m going to do everything I can to make her mine._

. . . . . 

“Narcissa Malfoy? I have not seen you in quite some time. What can I do for you?” 

“Madame Delacour, It is so wonderful to see you again. I hear your granddaughter has grown to be quite a beauty. Didn’t she marry the eldest Weasley? He’s quite the catch if you ask me,” The older woman chuckled and gestured for Narcissa to continue. “I asked you for tea today to ask you a few questions about your Veela ancestry, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Madame Delacour picked up her tea with grace and sipped. “And what would that be?” 

“Do you know of a location where I can access more information on Veela? I tried looking throughout my personal library, and I’ve only come across a few texts. There’s a young girl I adore who I believe is coming of age. She’s a known Muggleborn though, and I don’t know if that would be possible. I have searched quite in depth on this, and I am quite afraid if it’s true she won't be prepared. I have seen her irises darken and become completely black and noticed her nails turn into talons on occasion. She has become quite possessive over my son as well. Last night we had a female guest over for dinner she catch our guest kissing Draco. The poor girl fainted immediately.” 

After a moment of being deep in thought, she nodded slowly. “Yes, it does seem that she has the Veela gene and is turning. There is a possibility that she had a squib relative with a Veela gene. Having Veela in your blood does not always mean that they will turn when they come of age. More often than not, if the gene is not strong it must take extreme circumstances and danger of there mate to cause them to turn. You just had a war, No?”

“Yes, we did. My son was forced to take the mark from Lucius’ failures. They put him under extreme pressure from his Sixth Year at Hogwarts until the Dark L—Voldemort’s downfall.” 

She nodded, “That will certainly do it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, where could I find more reading material? I have not told her of my suspicions yet and I want to make sure I am well versed. Her twentieth birthday is next Saturday.” 

The lady’s eyes bulged slightly before she wandlessly and wordlessly summoned parchment and ink. She wrote down an address and handed it to Narcissa. 

“Go here and they will help you. You should make sure you are well prepared, the transformation can be agonizing if you do not know what is happening. Especially if they are not around their mate. Our instincts lead us to them for a purpose before coming of age and this is one of the most important things you could do for her. Keep them together as much as possible in the next few weeks. If she has any questions you can send her to me. _Au Revoir._

“Merci.” 

Narcissa looked at the address and noticed it only seemed a couple blocks away. She found herself walking in the fall breeze, coming across an ancient looking building with heavy Muggle repelling charms. She walked inside to find an old and dusty library with dim lighting. She flinched her hands away from cobweb and shuddered; she would certainly need a warm bath after this.

“How can I help you, Cheri?” An elderly woman appeared from behind a bookshelf. Narcissa could tell this woman would have been stunning in her prime, regardless of the numerous age lines across her face. She still had this ethereal beauty to her that made Narcissa feel very welcomed and comfortable around her. 

“I was sent here by Madame Delacour. She recommended this place to find more information on Veela. Perhaps some books I can take off your hands? Money is no issue.” She smiled politely. 

The lady did not respond, just turned around and walked away with purpose. Narcissa followed her without question to the back of the room behind a tattered curtain and opened a large wooden trunk on the floor. She blew off the dust on the book and placed it in Narcissa’s hands. 

“Beauty in Rarity” she read the title softly and felt the archaic binding of the book. She could feel the magical energy pulsing from the pages, something that she didn’t feel often from books nowadays. 

“Everything you need to know is in here, Cheri.”

“Thank you, I appreciate you giving me this. I can feel that it must be a very special edition. How much do I owe you?”

The elderly lady smirked, “Nothing, she will do great things.”

She walked away leaving Narcissa Malfoy loss for words.

. . .

“Narcissa?” Hermione called out as she padded her way down the hallway towards her favourite room in Malfoy Manor. She knew she needed to have a long discussion with Narcissa, and she hoped to find her in the library. 

Things have become… different to Hermione.

She didn’t notice the changes at first. They were small changes that she just put down to becoming healthier. She had spent a year in near starvation on the run. Not only was her body in a constant adrenaline high, she also was tortured for an hour and cursed many times. She knew it would take long for her body to heal, but the changes in her body were unnatural.

First, she noticed a difference in her hearing. She could hear the faint ‘lub-dub’ of a heartbeat whenever she was near someone. She could hear things occurring from long distances away, even when no one else could physically hear it.

Then, her reflexes vastly improved. Sometimes she could move so fast she felt supernatural. It helped that she could use both her heightened sense of hearing and sight to figure out which direction she needed to move. Just a couple of minutes ago, she was in the kitchens with the house elves talking to them as they prepared dinner when she heard something falling above her. Within a second she had moved from her place and caught the falling object in her hands. The elves had just given her a knowing look as she stared wide-eyed at the frying pan in her hands.

That was the moment Hermione knew she needed to talk to Narcissa; the older witch always seemed to know what to do. As she approached the library she could hear both Draco and Narcissa whispering quite angrily at each other. She peeked her head inside but stayed in the shadows, not wanting to interrupt them while they were fighting.

“And you don’t think she has the right to know?” Draco spat out and curled his lip over his teeth. 

“Draco please,” Hermione was surprised that she saw tears on Narcissa’s face, she usually wasn’t one to show her emotions. “Draco please listen. I just wanted to be sure.”

 “By the sounds of it you knew weeks ago when Pansy visited. You just had to go invite that _whore_ over to ‘ _make sure._ ’’ She saw Draco bring his fingers up and did air quotes with his fingers subconsciously, leaving Narcissa with a confused look on her face. If Hermione wasn’t so bewildered herself, she would have found it endearing that he picked up a muggle mannerism from her. 

“Draco, _language_.” Narcissa hissed. 

 _“Fuck no,_ Mother. I have every right to be pissed over you meddling with Hermione. I care about her and I don’t want to see her hurt from what you’re doing.”

_Wait—They were talking about her?_

“Draco, I love her. The last thing I want to see is her hurt. I was going to talk to her about it, I promise. I just wanted to do research first in case she had any questions.” 

“And your research included letting a gold-digging pureblooded brat over here and let her climb all over me to see if Hermione had any response to it?” Draco was now yelling at this point, no longer trying to keep his voice low.

 “I regret my actions,” Narcissa said solemnly, “I really truly do. That is why I went to go find this book. It’s beautiful. Can’t you feel the magical binding in the pages? What better way to show her than allow her an ancient book filled to the brim with history and forbidden knowledge.”

“I do not care, Mother. She needs to know that she is a Veela right now. If she truly is turning soon, she has a lot to prepare for, and I don’t want to scare her off if what you think is true.” 

_Veela? No, that couldn’t be possible. Muggleborns can’t be Veela… can they?_

_But that would explain_ they changes _in her body…_  

“I know it’s true Draco. You _are_ her mate.”

_Fuck._

_This couldn’t be happening._

Hermione felt her heart start going into overdrive and she wasn’t sure she could physically speak or more. She wanted to talk about her worries with Narcissa first, but it all makes so much sense.

 She had been worried about her relationship with Draco becoming unhealthy. All she ever wanted to do was be around Draco constantly and felt so empty when he was away.

 Hermione wanted to talk to Narcissa to see if the right decision was to go back to her flat.

Now she knew it would be the right decision.

Draco hasn’t actually been growing fond of her; Hermione only had been influencing him with her…pheromones. That’s at least what happened when Fleur came to Hogwarts. 

She had to leave, _now_.

“Fine Draco. We’ll get her and all talk about this together. _Rosie!”_

Hermione heard a pop of apparition, afraid to move and allowing them to hear her eavesdropping.

 “Yes, Mistress?”

“Please bring Hermione here to Draco and me.”

“But, Mistress. Miss Minnie is already here.”

_Fuck._

Hermione saw both Narcissa’s and Draco’s heads snap up and look at the door at her. Draco’s face morphed into something of torment and she fled.

She didn’t stop when she heard her name being called.

 She didn’t stop even when the voice screamed at her to turn around and comfort her mate.

She could feel Draco’s emotions rush through her. His worry, his grief, his dejection. Everything within her wanted to turn around to run back to his arms.

She wouldn’t let her body control her feelings anymore. She reached the floo and screamed out for her flat. The second she arrived she closed it down and put up multiple wards before falling to the ground. 

She couldn’t feel anything anymore. Just complete numbness. The only reason she knew of her tears was the salty taste on her lips. 

She knew she was doing the right thing putting up barriers. She was doing this all for Draco after all. He deserved to have happiness in his life after everything he went through. He was forced to be tied to the Darkness and she refused to let him tie himself to her.

With distance between them, Draco would finally be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s just all pretend Narcissa and Madame Delacour we’re speaking in French so there’s no accent. Let me tell you, it is really hard trying to write a French accent and I just didn’t want to botch it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update starts where I've made some major changes to the plot if you had previously seen this on FFn. Again, I am so much happier with the changes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

_ Earlier that afternoon... _

Narcissa could not believe the wealth of information she read in the book she brought home. It was filled with stories of ancient Veela and how they came to be. This history was so interesting and something she had never read before. She felt like an intruder by reading the book, obviously filled with documented familial secrets. She felt more sure now than ever that Hermione had Veela ancestry, and she couldn’t wait to share the book with her. She hoped that giving her the knowledge she needs would help lessen the betrayal she would feel over Narcissa not telling her soon.

“What are you reading, Mother?”

Narcissa jumped out of her seat, not even hearing Draco walk into the room and sneak behind him. She felt him peer over her shoulder and she closed the book a bit more forcefully than she wanted. He squinted his eyes at her before coming around and sitting close to her on the couch.

“Draco you frightened me, I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“What are you trying to hide Mother, you forget that I know your tells.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh really? Well, first of all, you never get startled, or at least you never show it. Yet you let the surprise show on your face just now. Then, of course, there’s the book you're trying to hide out of sight on the other side of you. And It’s a book I’ve never noticed in our library before, so spill.”

“Spill?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Muggle saying, I’ve been spending too much time with Hermione. Stop evading my question.”

“Speaking of Hermione, have you noticed anything…  _ off  _ about her?”

Draco furrowed his brows, “What are you talking about Mother, Hermione is  _ wonderful. _ There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s absolutely perfect the way she is. Her mind is so brilliant that I could pick her brain for hours. And she’s never afraid to speak her mind. Oh, and she looks adorable when she’s furious at me too; like a little angry kitten. Her hair has a mind of its own, and I don’t know why I ever picked on her for it. It gives her this wildness that you couldn’t ever want to tame.  And wow, she’s stunning. Have you notice that she just seems to glow recently— ”

“Draco” She smirked at him at his love-struck look on his face. It looked like he was describing his favourite piece of art. He had a radiant smile on his face and Narcissa couldn’t have been happier that they found each other.

“Draco, I didn’t mean that there was something  _ wrong  _ with her, just that she’s seemed to have changed recently.” He blushed.

“If you’re implying that she’s been happier from spending time with me then you need to just stop there.  _ Nothing  _ can come of it. She’s just too…  _ good, _ and I’m not. She deserves the best, and that’s not me.”

“You don’t think you’re good enough?”

“No, not at all. Especially not for her.”

“What if I told you that you two were meant to be together.”

“That’s wishful thinking, Mother. Obviously, you still want me to uphold our Pureblood line, why else would you have invited Astoria over the other day?”

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and looked away, “about that…”

“What did you do Mother?” Narcissa scoffed.

“Why do you just assume that I did something?” Draco narrowed his eyes again.

“You are known for your meddling, Mother.” She sighed.

“I regret this, and I am truly sorry. You are going to be furious with me on this, I know.”

He raised his eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest.

“I noticed something about Hermione the night Pansy came over for dinner.”

“So this started several weeks ago?”

She cleared her throat again, “Yes.”

Hesitantly, she continued. “When you escorted Pansy to the sitting room, there were some strange changes to Hermione. Her eyes became almost completely black, and she grew… talons.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he stood up, “you don’t think—”

“I don’t  _ think, _ I  _ know.”  _ Narcissa opened the book to a page on Coming-of-age Veelas. She watched as her son devoured the page and happiness rolled off him in waves.

“And you think I’m--?” The question hung in the air as Narcissa gave him a fond smile.

“I don’t  _ think, _ I  _ know _ .”

After a few moments of basking in his happiness, Draco gave his mother a confused look, “but if I’m Hermione’s mate, why hasn’t she told me yet? We should be spending as much time together as possible to help with the transition.”

“Well, the thing is she doesn’t know yet.” She looked away bashfully.

Draco’s look hardened immediately, showing Narcissa the dangerous edge to him that she never wanted to see again. “What do you mean, ‘ _ she does not know _ .’” He spoke sharp and slowly dragged out the words.

“I wanted to be sure first, Draco. It will be a life-changing moment, I couldn’t just tell her without being absolutely positive. So, I invited Astoria over for dinner… and I just didn’t expect her to kiss you.”

Draco began pacing and silently seething. “Mother how could you do this? She looked so… lifeless that night.  _ You _ did that to her. And you don’t think she has the right to know?” Draco spat out and curled his lip over his teeth.

“Draco please.” She tried to grab his arm to stop him and he jerked it away from her. “Draco please listen. I just wanted to be sure.”

“By the sounds of it, you knew weeks ago when Pansy visited. You just had to go invite that  _ whore _ over to ‘ _ make sure. _ ’’

“Draco,  _ language.”  _ Narcissa hissed.

“ _ Fuck no _ , Mother. I have every right to be pissed over you meddling with Hermione. I care about her and I don’t want to see her hurt from what you’re doing.”

“Draco, I love her. The last thing I want to see is her hurt. I was going to talk to her about it, I promise. I just wanted to do research first in case she had any questions.”

“And your research included letting a gold-digging Pureblooded brat over here and let her climb all over me to see if Hermione had any response to it?” Draco was now yelling at this point, no longer trying to keep his voice low.

“I regret my actions,” Narcissa said solemnly, “I really truly do. That is why I went to go find this book. It’s beautiful. Can’t you feel the magical binding in the pages? What better way to show her than allow her an ancient book filled to the brim with history and forbidden knowledge.”

“I do not care, Mother. She needs to know that she is a Veela right now. If she truly is turning soon, she has a lot to prepare for, and I don’t want to scare her off if what you think is true.”

“I  _ know  _ it’s true Draco. You  _ are _ her mate.”

“I honestly don’t doubt it. Not with the way things have been changing between the two of us, but I don’t understand why you  _ still _ haven’t talked to her about this. Her birthday is in  _ two  _ weeks. She needs to know that she should be around me as much as possible, which I definitely won’t mind. I love every time she’s around me, I feel much… lighter. But she  _ has _ to know, Mother. Or I’ll tell her exactly what you’ve done.”

“Fine Draco. We’ll get her and all talk about this together.  _ Rosie! _ ”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Please bring Hermione here to Draco and me.” Rosie looked around nervously and tapped her fingers together in front of her body.

“But, Mistress. Miss Minnie is already here.”

Narcissa and Draco looked at each other for a split second before shooting their heads up in the door. There Hermione stood, looking white as a ghost and practically shaking. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Draco took a step forward and Hermione bolted out the door, with Draco following shortly behind her.

Draco called her over and over again, his voice becoming more desperate and pleading by the minute. When she finally caught up, her son was standing in front of the fireplace with his head resting against the mantle. He turned around and Narcissa’s couldn’t tell what broke her heart more; seeing her baby boy cry or the hateful look in his eyes. 

“This is all your fault, Mother. If you only told her sooner we wouldn’t be in this mess. I can’t access her floo and I don’t even know where she lives.”

  
“Draco, she’ll be fine with a little space. She needs to process what she just found out. She’ll be okay.” She reached out to comfort him and Draco jerked his shoulder back, snarling at her.

“She may be the brightest witch of her age Mother, but she is a  _ Muggleborn. _ She doesn’t understand Veela like we do. Most likely the only experience she has around them is Fleur Delacour, who’s pheromones put the entire Hogwarts male population in a trance in Fourth Year. What the hell do you  _ think  _ is running through her head right now?”

“Oh dear.” Narcissa gasped and brought her hand up to her mouth. She watched as Draco swung his arm at the nearest surface, putting his entire hand through the drywall. As he removed it, it looked completely bloody and broken. Narcissa moved to heal him before seeing the look of hatred directed towards her again.

Draco stormed out of the room, the orange beast of a cat following behind him. Crookshanks turned his head back around and hissed at Narcissa before exiting the door.

The loneliness finally overtook her and she broke. Finally allowing her emotions to control her. She cried and begged for Hermione to come back. All Narcissa ever wanted was for her family to be whole and complete again. All she could do now is hope she didn’t mess everything up for that completely.

. . . . .

  
Draco let his feet drag him into Hermione’s room, but it didn’t feel the same. He could smell her all around him, but without her presence, it just didn’t feel right.

He sat on the bed and called for Daisy to heal his hand. He groaned as the bones snapped back in to place but didn’t regret his outlet of rage. He was terribly afraid of doing or saying something he would never forgive himself over. He knew his Mother thought she was doing the right thing; he knew she just wanted him to be happy. But he couldn’t forgive her right away, she took Hermione away from him after he had heard the best news of his life.

Veela mates were something of legend; a fantasy.

Two people who were made to fit together perfectly, it sounds like a childhood dream. 

But Draco couldn’t imagine anyone more suited for him than Hermione Granger. A beacon of lightness to balance his darkness. A beaming optimist whenever his pessimism overcomes him. Hermione Granger was love, beauty, and kindness, and he knew he didn’t deserve her after all he’s done and put her through.

However, if he was her Veela mate, then he would be selfish not to take the opportunity to be with her. Because any world with Hermione Granger gone would be dark and dreary. No, he couldn’t let that happen.

He yearned for her to come home; to be with him. Every second Hermione spends away from Draco over the next two weeks would cause her unimaginable pain during the transition.

He would give her some time. He would see if she would let down her walls to let him come to rescue her. He would rush through her fireplace and fall at her side the moment she unlocked her floo.

But he could only give her so much time before he found his own way to her. He would not let her bushy-haired brain overthink what she learned. He would not let her sacrifice herself when all that could possibly make him happy was her.

He would do anything to make sure she was safe, even if that meant contacting Potter.

. . . . .

_ Three fucking days. _ He’s waited three whole days pacing the length of the sitting room for Hermione to come to him. Draco’s tried absolutely everything to get her floo down from the Manor, but it wouldn’t come down.

He itched to be close to her, three days seemed too long. It certainly was the longest he’s gone from seeing her in months.

Everything seemed to put him more on edge; the only thing that could slightly calm Draco down was the ginger-haired beast Hermione called a pet. Her familiar, who usually was indifferent, at best; towards Draco barely left his side. He let Draco take out his frustrations out my scratching his back and ears, but swatted at Draco if he manhandled if too much. The damn beast drew blood on a few occasions.

He refused to do anything else for fear of missing a single opportunity of Hermione allowing him in. His absence was noticed at work, Daisy popping in often to let him know people were at the Manor looking for him. He ignored it all, better yet he let his mother deal with it.

His mother was a completely different story. She often came into the sitting room with guilty eyes and looking vulnerable. She pleaded with him to talk to her. She promised she would find a way to Hermione, but he couldn’t even look at her in the face.

He knew he hurt her by doing this, but there was a part in him that wanted her to suffer just as much as he was.

The floo lit up and Draco sprinted to it, hoping that Hermione finally came to reason. The disappointment he felt when he saw Harry Potter poke his head through was obviously evident at the  _ ‘saviour’s’  _ eye roll.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

“Hermione told me she has been staying here recently, is she around? I can’t get through her floo. It’s odd because she never locks it from me, even if she’s away.”

The little colour Draco had on his face drained, “She blocked  _ you _ from the floo too?”

“Malfoy let me through this minute,” Harry snapped. Draco complied but did not suspect to be roughly thrown against a wall.

“What the hell did you do to her.” Harry had his wand tip to Draco’s throat and snarled at him.

“Fuck! Potter, I didn’t do anything. If you need to blame someone, you can blame my Mother on this.”

Harry let go of Draco’s shirt and paced as Draco rubbed his chest. “Well, what did happen? Hermione hasn’t locked her floo since right after the war and she didn’t want anyone to walk in on her having a violent nightmare.”

“But that’s the time she’s supposed to have someone there with her. Tell me that someone stayed with her because no one should be alone for that.”

Harry looked at him questioningly, “I agree with you Malfoy. She’s as stubborn as a bull, but I snuck into her apartment every night. She scolded me every day, but she needed someone by her side to get through the night.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “Can you still get in somehow? I’m worried about her Potter. She overheard my Mother and I fighting  _ three days ago _ and I’ve been trying to get in constantly. I don’t know where she lives or I would be there now running the door down.”

Harry looked confused as to what to do. He obviously didn’t want to believe Draco, but couldn’t deny his genuine concern about Hermione.

Harry’s shoulders sagged, “Alright Malfoy, come on. Do you have an apparition point nearby?”

Draco led him outside of the Manor grounds to their apparition point. Harry apparated them to a dingy alley and grabbed Draco’s arm. They walked a block down the Muggle street before entering a building that seemed to be falling apart. They walked up three flights of stairs to an apartment labelled 32B. Harry knocked on the door five times with no answer before asking Draco to help him dismantle the complex wards.

It took them thirty minutes together to get it down, leaving them breathless and sweating. However, nothing could prepare them for the horror they walked in on.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: A little shorter than I wanted because I wanted to get this chapter up! I had a pretty rough day with an exam and it always makes me happy to see the responses to this story. I cannot believe this story has almost 2000 hits and 100 kudos. Your encouragement makes me want to get up chapters fast!

 

"Shit," Draco breathe out as he took in his surroundings. Hermione's place was in complete disarray. End tables were flipped up, papers were scattered everywhere, glass shards surrounded the floor.

He looked over at Harry and noticed he seemed to be in a sort of trance. The dread and panic he felt must have left his body in a state of paralysis.

" _Potter."_  Draco hissed, trying to snap him out of it. Harry didn't flinch, instead just turned his face towards Draco's, with is gaping mouth still open.

"Earth to Auror Potter.  _The rooms._  Check the rooms.  _Now."_

Reminding Harry of his title finally got his attention. He abruptly pulled out his wand and went off in search of another presence with a determined look on his face. Draco began to scrutinize the completely trashed room he stood in.

He tried to push down the feelings of impending doom by pouring his every thought to finding an evidence where Hermione could be. It sickened him to notice signs of struggles and he chastised himself for not going to Harry sooner. A dent in the wall caught his attention and he went to inspect it. He found blood in the cracks, enraging him over the thought of someone hurting Hermione.

Harry came running out and Draco silently felt thankful over the seriousness on Harry's face. He couldn't deal with it if Potter broke down; he needed a soldier right now.

"She's gone Malfoy. There are no signs of anyone else in this house. Her belongings don't look like they've been rifled through, and there are no signs of a struggle anywhere else."

"Potter, look what I've found." He pointed at the speckles of blood on the wall and Harry's face darkened. Draco assumed similar thoughts were swarming through Harry's head as well.

"Can you figure out if it's Hermione's? I swear if we find the culprit I am going to tear him apart piece by piece."

"Woah, Malfoy. There is no 'we'."

Draco furrowed his brows, "What do you mean Potter?  _We_  have to find Hermione."

"No," Harry commanded, " _I_  am going to inform the Aurors we have a crime scene and a missing person and  _you_ are going to go home to your Manor. You can't be here when the rest of the Aurors get here Malfoy."

"Why the fuck not?"

"You're not an Auror Malfoy, you could compromise the scene. I'll have to call you in later when we need to question you."

Draco jumped away in self defence, " _Question me?_ Potter, I had absolutely nothing to do with this! How could you even think—"

"Malfoy listen. We need to know the events that happened before her disappearance. So I'm going to send my Patronus to the Auror department, and you are going home to inform Mrs Malfoy. We will contact you when we need you."

Draco put his arm on Harry's as Harry pushed him towards the door to apparate home, "Potter there's one more thing you need to know if this is becoming a case."

Harry lifted his eyebrow and Draco looked at him nervously, debating whether or not he should just blurt it out to get it over with.

"Hermione… she's not completely human Potter."

"Fuck's sake Malfoy,  _I know she's a witch._  This isn't the time to be messing around. If this is something to do with her muggleborn status I swear I know how to get away with your murder—"

" _Potter!_ Just fucking listen for a moment. Hermione is a  _Veela_  and I am her mate."

Harry stood there with a dumbfounded look on his face, not completely sure if what he heard was right.

"But-- _what?_  Hermione is a what? No, she can't be she's a muggleborn. Malfoy that's just ridiculous."

"Potter it's the truth. That's why she ran out the other night. She overheard my mother and I arguing over it. Mother thought it was a good idea to hide this bit of information from Hermione until she knew for sure, and I was pissed at the tactics she used. I don't know exactly what she heard, but Mother did tell me that I'm her mate."

"Does that mean you'll become giddy over her just because of that? I remember how our entire school acted around Fleur."

"No, and this is exactly why I think she ran. The muggle-raised kids don't quite understand Veela. A Veela mate is special; a soul mate in fact. Please, bring it up the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures; they'll tell you the same thing. Veela's and their Mates are protected under the Ministry, if this" Draco gestured to the rest of the room, "what done by the hands of someone who realized what she was, they'll have more punishment."

Harry nodded in understanding and pushed Draco out the door. Draco hurriedly made his way back to the apparition point Harry showed him. Once back at Malfoy Manor, he ran down the halls calling for his Mother. His panicked brain had forgotten to use the Malfoy elves to locate her, and he needed to talk to her  _now._

He skidded to a stop when he saw his Mother sitting across Mrs Greengrass with an exasperated look on her face. Mrs Greengrass turned to stare furiously at Draco, noting how unladylike she conducted herself; similar to her daughter.

"Darling, you showed up just in time. Mrs Greengrass here is trying to tell me that you hexed Astoria Greengrass bald, and they cannot find a way to undo it. Please tell me that this  _isn't_ the case?"

Draco had to hold his breath for a minute to prevent himself from laughing hilariously at that image. Vain Astoria Greengrass completely bald? That was certainly a picture he  _had_  to see. Thinking back to the day Astoria joined them for a few brief moments, he recalled a fact that might have something to do with her situation.

"No, Mother I did not.  _However_ , I did tell Daisy that if Ms Greengrass loitered for too long in the Manor or tried to take something that was not hers, she could punish her as she saw fit."

"That is preposterous!" Mrs. Greengrass shouted out, "My daughter is not anything but polite and courteous in good company. Perhaps it had something to do with the Mudblood being here."

Narcissa placed her cup of tea on her plate with an audible  _clink._  "Mrs Greengrass, that is enough. Must I remind you that you are  _my_ guest in  _my_ home insulting a girl who is  _protected_  by the Malfoy name."

Mrs Greengrass sputtered with a loss of words.

"Mother, I really must speak to you.  _In private."_

"Mrs Greengrass it looks like I must bid my farewells.  _Daisy."_

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Please see Mrs Greengrass out. If she puts up a fight you're allowed to give her a matching hairstyle to her daughter."

Draco watched as Daisy smirked, snapping her fingers at the other older witch in the room.

"But what about my Astoria? Are you just going to leave her in this condition?"

Narcissa stood up and brushed off imaginary flint in her skirt. "I'm sorry Mrs Greengrass, but my attention is needed elsewhere. Good day."

Draco held his arm out to his Mother and escorted her from the room. Once they were a safe distance away, his Mother let out a little chuckle. "I am so glad that girl got what she deserved."

Draco tightened his lip, "Let's not forget the reason she was there in the first place, Mother."

Her merriment stopped immediately and she sighed, "Draco when will you forgive me for my sins?"

"It's not important now Mother. What is important is that Hermione is missing."

Narcissa paled, "you checked her apartment?"

"Yes, Potter brought me. Mother the place was completely ransacked. There was blood on the wall and glass everywhere."

Narcissa grabbed Draco's hand to steady herself, ducking her head in shame, "this is all my fault."

Draco wiped a silent tear running down her cheek and tilted her head back up, "I know you were trying to do what was best, Mother, but now we need to put our heads together to think of where she could be."

"Yes, okay." She took a calming breath, "Let's start with a list of the known Death Eaters that are still on the run."

A stag interrupted the pair on the way to Draco's study. Potter's stern voice came out clearly, "Malfoy, get to the Aurors' office, and quickly. Bring your mother."

Draco did not wait to take his mother's arm and walk quickly to their closest floo. Narcissa dragged slightly behind, but Draco did not slow his pace.

For once, Draco did not think about the stares and whispers that began once he entered the Ministry. His only concern was for Hermione.

When they finally reached the Aurors' office, he quickly noticed a head with messy black hair talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt. When the Minister noticed Draco's presence, he pointed him out to Harry. The Malfoy's shuffled over to the pair talking in hushed voices, and Draco noticed that Harry did not look happy.

"Potter, did you find her."

"Not quite, but we have a lead."

"Then why did you call me here if you haven't found her yet?" Harry blushed.

"I checked with the Magical Creature Division, and you were right. Veela's are protected by law. If what you said is correct, and you are her mate, then you have as much right to be notified as if you were Hermione's legal spouse."

"Mr Potter, I can assure you, it is correct. I've been watching the pair closely for the past two weeks." Narcissa noticed how Harry's lip curled over at her statement.

"Right, your son told me." He shot a look to Draco, "We've apprehended someone who believes that Hermione is ...  _his._  He's completely delusional at the moment; he took a hard blow and still has Veela pheromones in his system."

"Who the hell is it Potter?"

Harry sighed, "We've arrested Ron Weasley for the attempted kidnap of Hermione Granger."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm so sorry for the long updated and short chapter. Things have been hectic at university, and I didn't do as well as I wanted to on my first round of midterms. I had to cut back on time I spent writing to study. Then I found some devastating news.. A friend of mine committed suicide. It's been hard trying to cope with that and studying and trying to write. I hope you forgive me.
> 
> I'm sorry again for this short filler chapter, but I'm hoping it will spur a muse. I really miss writing.

_Three days earlier…_

"'Mione? Is that you?"

Hermione perked up her head to see Ron standing in her kitchen with a sandwich in his hands. He tilted her head at her, "'Mione, are you alright?" He set the sandwich down on the counter and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. Hermione didn't move; she  _couldn't_ move, her mind seemed to be all over the place.

Ron walked over to the wall she had fallen against as soon as she finished putting up the wards and crouched down to meet her eye level. "Hermione, please say something I'm terribly worried—"

Hermione noticed Ron blinking rapidly before looking at her with completely dilated eyes. "Why did you leave me, 'Mione?"

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. He punched the wall right next to her head and she yelped.

"I asked you a question," he took a deep breath in through his nose.

"I—I, Ron, we've already talked about this. I thought you were happy about dating other people."

"No, _Hermione,_ " she cringed at the way he said her name, "have you forgotten that you are  _mine?"_

Hermione scrunched up her face, " _what?_  Ronald Billius Weasley, what would ever possess you to think that  _I_ am  _yours?_ I belong to  _no one_ , thank you, and not a single man, and certainly not you, could tell me otherwise." She let out a huff of air through her nose and gripped her hands together. She knew logically that Ron didn't seem to be acting like himself, but the  _nerve_ of him to say that to her…

_Smack!_

Hermione gripped her face as she heard a defining crunch coming from her own nose, signalling that it was broke. She felt hot blood dripping down her face and she tasted copper as she licked her lips as a nervous habit.

"Ron—Ron we can talk about this." The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she stared into the cold and unwelcoming eyes in front of her. This wasn't him.. it couldn't be him.

He tipped his head to the side and gave her a sickening smirk. "There's nothing to talk about Hermione. You. Are.  _Mine._ " He growled out the last word as he pulled her hair, laughing as she yelped in pain.

"Ron! What are you doing?"

"I think it's funny that you think you have a choice in the matter."

_A choice._

_Her fucking choice._

She backed up her arm and threw her entire body weight into a punch to his face. She watched as his blood splattered on the wall. She grabbed her wand and incarcerated Ron in a full body bind. He struggled against the ropes as he snarled at her.  _You fucking bitch. You really think you could ever be anything but Malfoy's whore? You're Mine._ Over and over again he yelled vicious words as she paced around the room.

Hermione was sick of his nonsense. This wasn't Ron. It was all  _her_  fault. He would snap out of it and surely feel bad, but it still felt nice in the moment to retaliate to his words. She reached down and ripped her shoe off her foot, throwing it at his head. He ducked in the moment, letting her trainer fly past his face and into the wall. He laughed at her aim.

She reached down again and took off her sock, walking forward and shoving it in his mouth to gag him. Ron looked like he was about to vomit, but she needed some quiet to think. He tried to spit the sock out of his mouth, but she made sure to cast a sticking charm.

She started walking towards her room snickering, leaving a mumbling Ron in the living room and feeling slightly better. Hermione still felt sick to her stomach.

_Was this why Draco flirted with her? Why he made advances and wanted her to be his? All because of Veela pheromones?_

While Draco certainly never acted like how Ron did, she knew Draco wasn't as volatile as Ron.  _Would that have anything to do with it?_

She needed space.

She needed to leave, and quickly.

Hermione went to her closet and dug out a suitcase before making her way through her drawers, packing enough clothes to get away for a few weeks.

She knew she didn't have time to ask Kingsley for a portkey; he would ask too many questions and certainly would tell Harry where she went.

No, Hermione wanted to be alone. She had to do this the muggle way.

She zipped up her suitcase after packing the last of her toiletries and rolled it to the living room. She rounded the corner to see the furious face of her best friend. Hermione knew she couldn't just leave him here, but she needed to buy herself time. She quickly knocked him unconscious before undoing all of the bindings that kept him restrained.

She walked outside and apparated to a location close to the airport, determined on purchasing a one way ticket away from England.


End file.
